The Black Curtain
by IndyGirl89
Summary: It's the anniversary of the death of Anna and Elsa's parents, so Anna decides that it's finally time to visit their portrait. But is Elsa ready to put her own painful memories behind her? One-shot.


**Hey guys! I know, it's been quite a while since I posted a new story, but I had trouble coming up with ideas. I know I sorta promised a Tangled fanfic, but I decided to scrap it 'cause it just wasn't working. It's hard going from one fandom to another when you're so used to writing for just one of those fandoms. So anyway, here's another Elsanna sisterly one-shot, about Anna and Elsa visiting their parents' portrait (the one covered with a black curtain) on the anniversary of their death. This story is inspired and dedicated to the memory of my grandma, who died just over a year ago. I had hoped to have this finished and posted on the anniversary of her death, but distractions pushed it back by a week. But anyway, here it is, and hope you enjoy. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Frozen or any of its characters.**

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><p>It was a bright, beautiful day in Arendelle. The sun danced and sparkled on the water of the fjord, the air was warm, and a gentle breeze rippled through the trees. All over the village, children laughed and played in the sunshine and adults talked and mingled with each other. It seemed to most to be an ordinary day. But for those living in the castle, it was anything but.<p>

Though the sun shone through the beautiful diamond-patterned windows, sending rainbows of light dancing across the floors and walls, it did nothing to dispel the gloominess that had persisted through the castle since early that morning. There wasn't much activity, as most of the staff had been given the day off to commemorate this special, yet sad, day, and as such, the castle was much quieter without the usual hustle and bustle. Even the hallway leading to Princess Anna's room was unusually quiet, as she had not come out since going to bed the night before. But in actuality, she was still in bed.

It was not entirely unusual for Anna to still be in bed so late in the morning, but because of what today was, she just didn't have the motivation to get up. She was in almost the same position she had woken up in – the blankets thrown off, her legs tangled in the sheets, her arms thrown above her head, and her hair a rat's nest, to put it lightly. The curtains were still drawn over her window, keeping the room in semi-darkness. Just like the day she and Elsa had first received news that their parents' ship had gone down, she had no energy, desire, or motivation to get up. Luckily, no one was around this time to rap on her door to make sure she was up and getting ready for the day. She could stay in bed all day if she wanted.

Four years. It had been four years since she had lost her parents, but it always seemed like just yesterday. She thought it would get better with time, but the truth was, each year was more painful than the last. She missed her parents so much, it was like having a constant ache in her chest. There were reminders everywhere, from big things like the sight of her parents' memorial stones, to small things like the curtains that her mother had picked out for her (and Elsa's) room. It never got any easier.

But at least she had Elsa now. The first three years after her parents had died had been the loneliest ones ever. Sure, Kai and Gerda had always been there if she needed them, but despite being close to the royal family, they hadn't really understood what she had been going through. But they had done their best, as Elsa had been too distraught herself to say even one word of comfort through her persistently closed door. But even though Elsa hadn't been there for her afterwards, she had been there for Elsa, sitting outside her door until well into the night, neither saying a word, sharing in each other's grief. Anna had, for the most part, been quiet, but she could've sworn she had heard a small, wrenching sob from the other side of the door sometime during the night. But she didn't say anything, as Elsa would shrink away from her just like she always did.

Anna sighed and rolled over onto her back, staring at her shadowy ceiling. She wished Kristoff was there, but he was probably out somewhere with Sven. She had told him what today was and that she had wanted to spend it with just Elsa. He had understood, but it was hard knowing that he wasn't there to envelop her in his big, strong arms and kiss her forehead and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Gosh, how she loved him. He always seemed to know when she wanted him with her and when she wanted to be alone. He laughed with her during the happy times and comforted her during the sad times. She knew she had chosen well this time around.

She turned her head and glanced at the clock on the mantle of her fireplace, which was cold, dark, and empty, like the rest of her room. It was going on noon. She had never stayed in bed this long, except for those few times when she had been sick. Even though she'd rather do nothing than stay in bed all day, she figured she should get up and at least check on Elsa, just to see how she was doing.

She dragged herself out of bed and shuffled barefoot over to her wardrobe. Considering what today was, she picked out a somber, dark-colored dress and put it on, along with her chemise, corset, stockings, and petticoats, and slipped her feet into black shoes. Then she sat down in front of her vanity and tamed her unruly hair into her two signature braids. She put a little powder on her cheeks and, satisfied, left her room and went down the hall and around the corner to Elsa's room.

Anna knocked her signature knock on the blue-patterned door. "Elsa?" she called. "Are you in there?"

Silence. That either meant that Elsa, too, was still sleeping or that she was already up. Anna knocked again, but when she still didn't receive an answer, she figured that Elsa must already be up and continued on her way. About halfway down another hallway, she passed a tall portrait covered with a black curtain. She didn't need to stop or even look to know which portrait it was. It was the one of her parents that had been covered up shortly after their death. Anna didn't know when the portrait had been painted, but it looked like shortly after they were married, for they both looked young and happy.

She finally made it down to the family's private dining room, expecting to see Elsa there, but was disappointed when she found the room empty. However, there was a place set for her, most likely Gerda's doing. Knowing what today was, she knew that Anna probably wouldn't be down until later, so she hadn't put out any food. It didn't matter to Anna, though. She wasn't that hungry, anyway.

She went back upstairs and continued looking for Elsa. Knowing her sister, there were probably at least two other places she could be: the library or their father's study. Ruling out the latter, since she couldn't understand why Elsa would want to be working today, she decided to trust her instincts and try the library.

When she got to the hallway leading to the library, she could see that the door was closed, but as she got closer, she could feel icy air coming through the cracks in the door. _I knew it_, Anna thought. _She is in there. She's probably locked or frozen the door handle, too. _She tried the handle and, sure enough, it wouldn't budge. She knocked on the door.

"Elsa?" she said softly. She heard a frightened gasp and the sound of crackling ice. "Elsa, please, I know you're in there. Remember, I'm always here for you. Just let me in. Please?"

There was no sound except for the continued crackling of ice. Anna sighed, starting to get impatient. "Elsa, I know you're upset," she said, trying her best to stay calm for her sister's sake, but not really succeeding. "I am, too. But that's no reason to shut yourself away. You promised me right after the thaw that you would never shut me out again. You said that our love for each other as sisters was too strong to break us apart. I love you, Elsa. Can't you see that?"

It's amazing how three simple words could have such an effect on someone. Anna had barely finished speaking when there was a rush of cool wind and a crackling as the ice disappeared, finally allowing her to open the door and step into the room. The ice wasn't completely gone, but it was now contained in one corner of the room, where Elsa sat curled into a ball, shaking almost uncontrollably, not from cold, but from something deeper.

Anna went over to her and knelt down so that she was at eye level. "Elsa, what's wrong?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

_Of course she's not okay. Does she look okay?_ Anna asked herself, but she pushed the thought away. But then, as if reading her mind, Elsa shook her head.

"Elsa," Anna said quietly. "It's okay to miss them. I miss them, too. It's hard every day knowing that they're not here to greet us in the morning or to say good night before going to bed." She paused, looking at Elsa, who had her head buried in her knees, refusing to look at her, refusing to show her pain. "But you know what?" Anna continued. "Even though they're not here physically anymore, they're still watching out for us, just like they always did when alive. We may not be able to sense it, but they're still here in a way, and they still love us."

Silence. Elsa kept her face hidden, still refusing to look at her. Anna soon grew exasperated with Elsa's behavior and said in a stern voice quite unlike her, "Elsa, look at me."

Finally, Elsa moved, finally she lifted her head to look at her sister. She looked just like Anna felt, though, if possible, worse. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her eyes were red and puffy and had dark circles under them, like she hadn't slept the night before. Her usually sleek hair was somewhat disheveled and her dress was rumpled. In fact, now that Anna looked at her more closely, it appeared to be the same dress she had worn yesterday. Elsa had never been known to wear the same dress two days in a row. With her wonderful powers of snow and ice, she could create a new dress for every day of the year if she wanted to. But today, it appeared that she didn't have the heart for it, and that saddened Anna more than anything.

The silence seemed to stretch on for hours, until finally, Anna said quietly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

More silence. Anna was about to give up when she heard a small, broken voice whisper, "I didn't say goodbye."

"What?" Anna said, not sure she had heard correctly.

"I didn't say goodbye," Elsa said, a little louder. "That was the last time we ever saw Mama and Papa and I didn't say goodbye. All I said was 'Do you have to go?' I was too scared to show any emotion or even to hug them. I didn't hug them." Her voice broke, and fresh tears started rolling down her cheeks. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees and a light snow began falling. "Now they're gone, and I'll never have that chance again, to hug them and say how much I love them and how sorry I am for pushing them away all those years." She looked up at something on the wall above her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, and she buried her head in her knees again.

"Oh, Elsa," Anna whispered, and she reached out a comforting hand, but Elsa flinched and curled herself into an even tighter ball. Anna huffed inwardly, but in light of Elsa's current emotional state, chose to overlook it. "Look, it's okay to feel sad and upset, but you have to let those feelings out. It's not good to keep them bottled up inside you all the time. You of all people know that."

Elsa slowly raised her head to look at her again. For a fleeting second, Anna thought she saw a look of surprise cross her sister's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Had she finally gotten through to her?

"You're right," Elsa said quietly.

"Wait, what?" She was right? Anna never thought she'd hear her sister say that.

"You're right," Elsa repeated, a little louder. "I shouldn't keep my emotions inside. Concealing has never worked for me, even when I was young. But that was the one thing that Papa told me would help. That was his mantra: Conceal it, don't feel it, don't let it show."

That's why Anna had been so surprised to discover that Elsa had ice powers at her coronation. Elsa never came out of her room during those thirteen years of isolation, so Anna had never known that Elsa had even had them. Well, Elsa had told her just a few days after the thaw that she had known when she was little, but the trolls had removed those particular memories, so it was like she had never had them in the first place.

"You know, I've been thinking," said Anna carefully, not wanting to upset Elsa even more than she already was. "Maybe Papa taught you the wrong way. He shouldn't have told you to conceal your magic, and the reason you couldn't control it was because you were afraid of it. He should've told you to embrace and accept it as who you are. Your magic is a part of you, Elsa. It's what makes you you."

Silence again. Elsa was still curled into her tight ball, but the ice had finally receded and the temperature in the room was back to normal. Anna laid a comforting hand on her again, and this time, she didn't shirk away. She took that as a good sign.

"You know what we should do?" Anna asked quietly. "We should go visit them."

Elsa suddenly shook her head. "No," she whispered, and she curled away from Anna again.

"Elsa, it's time," said Anna, and she held out her hand, but Elsa ignored it.

"No," said Elsa again. "I can't. I haven't visited them since…..well, you know."

"That's why we need to visit them," said Anna, taking her sister's hands and pulling her into a standing position. "And this time will be better."

"How do you know?" Elsa asked.

"Because we're together," said Anna, smiling at her. She squeezed her hand and then started pulling her out the door. "Come on, let's go."

"Anna, wait," said Elsa, digging her feet into the carpet and pulling them to a stop. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not entirely presentable at the moment." She gestured at her messy hair and rumpled dress.

"Elsa, they're just our parents," said Anna, trying her best not to roll her eyes. "It's not like they're foreign dignitaries or anything."

"Anna," said Elsa, and her voice held a tone of seriousness. "Papa may have taught me the wrong way to conceal my magic, but he also taught me that a good ruler always maintains a high level of dignity and decorum at all times."

"Okay, I'm not entirely sure what you just said, but if you want to change, go ahead," said Anna, shrugging.

Elsa flicked her wrist at the hem of her dress, and ice crystals started swirling around her, changing her dress and smoothing her hair. When they dissipated, she was wearing another ice dress of a light purplish-blue color.

"Okay," Elsa sighed. "Now I'm ready."

Anna took her sister's hand again, but more gently this time, and continued leading her out of the room. They walked in silence, up stairs and down hallways, Anna still in the lead. Elsa soon realized that they weren't going outside to their parents' memorial stones.

"Anna," said Elsa, as Anna pulled her down yet another hallway. "I thought we were going to visit Mama and Papa."

"We are," said Anna, smiling at her a bit mischievously.

"But—" Elsa started, but the word hung in the air. They had come to a stop on a particular landing where on the wall hung a large portrait covered by a black curtain.

"Come on," said Anna, and she pulled on her hand again, but Elsa didn't move. She just stared straight ahead of her at the painting. "Elsa, come on," she said more firmly.

Elsa shook her head again. "No. I can't," she said. "I—I'm not ready."

"We'll never be ready," said Anna, gently squeezing her hand. "But we have to face it sooner or later."

_What's wrong with later? _Elsa thought.

"I know it's hard for you," Anna continued. "It's hard for me, too. But I've found that if you keep pushing it away, it'll just get more and more painful."

Anna was right. Again. Pushing it all away did make it more painful, made it harder to deal with day after day. It would crash down on her harder every time. It was time to stop hiding. It was time that she put it all in the past. It was time she made peace with her parents.

She shakily nodded, and Anna pulled her down the hall until they were right in front of the portrait. She pulled on a cord hanging by the frame and rolled the curtain up, revealing their parents.

They looked so much different than Elsa remembered them: young and happy, no worry lines etched in their faces, no looks of hopelessness in their eyes. They looked just as they should've had the accident never happened. But most of all, they looked like the parents that Elsa wished she had had all those lonely years of isolation – kind, loving, and understanding, not worried or fearful. She wished she could talk to them now, to say how sorry she was for making them feel that way. Most of all, she wished she could hug them tight, just like she did when she was a little girl. But like she had told Anna, she had missed her very last chance to do so, and she would never get it back.

Suddenly, she realized that Anna was talking.

"Hello, Mama, Papa. I promised I'd get her here today, even if I had to drag her." There was a moment of silence before Anna spoke again. "I know, she does look sad, doesn't she? She thinks she's fine, but the ice and snow in the library this morning gave away her true feelings." Silence again. "Well, she can control them better otherwise; it's just that sometimes, she gets so upset that it just bursts out of her."

Elsa looked around at Anna to see who she was talking to, but didn't see anyone. However, she saw that Anna was staring straight at the portrait of their parents. _Of course_, she thought. _She's talking to the portrait_._ She mentioned doing that while we were isolated._ Her thoughts were again interrupted by Anna talking. But this time, her voice was quiet, and sad.

"I miss you, Mama and Papa," she said, reaching out to touch the portrait. "And I know Elsa misses you, too, even if she doesn't say it. You know she's never been good at sharing her feelings with others. But I'm her sister. She should be able to tell me, right?"

It was almost like Elsa wasn't even there. Why did Anna bring her here if she only wanted to talk to the portrait? She could talk to it anytime she wanted without her. She didn't need Elsa. After all those years of isolation, she was used to doing things by herself, without Elsa. Did she perhaps bring her here to make her feel guilty, because it had been easier for her to confide in paintings than her own big sister? No, that couldn't be it. But Elsa couldn't think of any other reason. Anyway, she should feel guilty. It was her fault that Anna had had no one to talk to all those years; or, at least, no one who answered her back. But she had to have known that Elsa had wanted to talk back to her, but her powers had been so out of control that she had thought it was best to stay silent, and not encourage her. If she encouraged her, Anna would push her, and she would lose control again. She couldn't let that happen, so she had said nothing.

Deciding that Anna probably wanted to be left alone, Elsa turned and started walking back the way they had come. But before she had taken a few steps, she heard Anna call her name.

"Elsa?"

Elsa turned and saw Anna staring at her with that familiar expression of worry and concern. "Don't you want to talk to them, too?" Anna asked.

No, she didn't. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now, not even Anna. She wanted to go back to her room and shut the door and stay there forever. But she knew Anna wouldn't let her, so instead, she said, "No, that's okay, Anna. This is your thing."

"But it can be your thing, too, Elsa," said Anna, coming closer to her. Elsa sucked in a breath. She was getting too close. She could feel tingling in her fingers and toes. She curled her bare hands into fists and tucked them safely against her chest.

"No, I can't," she whispered, staring at the floor.

"Why not?" Anna asked, stepping even closer and closing the space between them. She was so close now that Elsa could feel her warm breath on her face.

"Because…...because it's too painful," Elsa answered quietly.

"Elsa," said Anna, and her voice carried a hint of sadness. "I know it's painful for you. It's painful for me, too. But Mama and Papa would want you to be happy. They wouldn't want you to mourn their deaths; they'd want you to celebrate their lives. That is, after all, what a memorial service is about, isn't it? Remembering them and what they did."

"But I didn't go," said Elsa, taking a step back, trying to put some distance between herself and Anna.

"I know you didn't," said Anna, trying to ignore the fact that Elsa was shrinking away from her again. "And I remember being upset that you weren't there with me, to comfort me or share in my grief. But now I know that you probably wouldn't have come even if you had wanted to. Your powers are tied to your emotions, and you were afraid that in your grief, they'd spiral out of control."

Elsa was silent again. That was the third time that Anna had been right. How could she possibly know what Elsa was feeling? Could she read minds? No, that was impossible. No one could read minds. Then how did she know so much about her?

Because they were sisters. Sisters were supposed to know everything about each other. Even though they had been separated for thirteen years, Anna still remembered certain things about her, like the fact that her powers were tied to her emotions. When she was happy, she was in control of them, as was evidenced the night that she and Anna had gone down to the ballroom to build a snowman for the last time. When she was afraid or upset, she hurt someone, like she had hurt Anna those two times, once in the ballroom and again up on the North Mountain. That's why she had shut herself away all those years, for fear of hurting the only sister she had. But despite all that, Anna had still loved her enough to go after her and bring her back, literally dying in the process. She still didn't understand how anyone could love her after all that.

Elsa sniffled, and felt tears trickling down her face again. She swiped them away, but she was afraid that Anna had seen them anyway. Her next comment confirmed that thought.

"It's okay to cry," said Anna softly. She laid a hand gently on Elsa's arm, and for once, she didn't pull away. Elsa looked at her for a moment through tear-filled eyes, and then she suddenly gave a great sob and flung herself on Anna. Anna was surprised, but happy that Elsa was finally letting her emotions out. That was the first step to overcoming grief. She put her arms around Elsa and gently lowered Elsa and herself to the floor. She gently kissed Elsa's temple and stroked her hair, like Elsa used to do to her when they were little. "That's it, Elsa," she whispered, as Elsa sobbed into her shoulder. "Just let it out. You'll be okay now. Everything's going to be okay."

She rocked back and forth and soon, Elsa's sobs quieted to just sniffles. Anna kept rocking and shushing until finally, Elsa was able to look up. She gently pulled herself out of Anna's embrace and wiped her face.

"I'm sorry, Anna," Elsa sniffled.

"Elsa, you have nothing to be sorry for," said Anna, stroking her hair again. "We all need to let it out. It's the best way to release the pain."

Elsa nodded, and sniffled again.

"Do you feel better?" Anna asked.

"Yes," said Elsa quietly, and this time, she meant it.

"Good," said Anna, smiling at her. "I knew you would." And she wrapped her sister in a tight hug. Elsa hugged back just as tightly, feeling happy that she had finally let it go.

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><p><strong>I couldn't resist putting that last line in there. :) Again, hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!<strong>


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